One more light
by Cossacks250
Summary: A short that is a tribute and a message to those who feel there is no end to their pain.


**Author notes: First of all, I do not own Life is Strange and this is a bit of an alternate take on the game, a sort of 'third ending' if you will.**

 **Second, this FF is a tribute to one of my idols, Chester Bennington, former lead singer of Linkin park before his death last year in July, and also to victims of depression and suicide. This FF will briefly use the Linkin Park song 'One more light' throughout it.**

 **I own no Linkin Park material.**

* * *

 _Why? Why come here? Why come here and pain yourself like this?_

It's called remembrance. And I want to remember her.

Great! Good luck depressing yourself!

Max ignored the deeper recess of her mind that had perpetually berated her for coming back here, her own mind practically treating her as if she was a criminal. Still she repressed the thoughts and continued on through the gates and down the path. Soon, the various headstones began to pass on her left and right. Each of them bearing the names of those gone. Some has passed away mere months ago, others more than a decade or two. As she looked up, brushing part of her long hair out of her eyes, she saw one headstone bent diagonally facing towards the sky, a symbol of the neglect handed to it as relatives had long passed on or had given up trying to tend to what they saw was simply something not worth the time, nor money or energy.

 _Sad. Relics, icons, and the people themselves in the ground under the headstones, all of them forgotten. Maybe I sho-_ She paused and mentally hit herself. _Jeez, why don't you just take a picture of all of them?! Don't want to anger the ghosts!_

She pressed on, heading towards a small group of trees nestled near a cross way in the path that was in the middle of the cemetery. The small batch of flowers in her hand hung, their petaled ends pointed towards the ground as if in mourning for those around them. If they could talk ( _Wonderland for real_ she thought) she would not blame them if they felt melancholy. Coming here always was difficult; it was bad enough that her grandmother was buried here, having been buried somewhere near one of the corners of the cemetery. But that was not the reason for her visit today. It was for a friend of hers, one who … who …

She bit down on her lower lip, trying to choke back the tears that threatened to fall. She successfully did so, but it took a lot of strength. She inhaled deeply to calm herself. _C'mon, this wasn't the way we agreed on. And it's not … well, right._

 _Oh, shut up!_ A part of her mind seemed to snap. _And what do you mean by 'right'? Who wouldn't feel this way?!_

Finally, Max came to a halt in front of a lone grave under one of the trees, surrounded by grass that looked fresh and new – hardly a surprise considering the rain they had had recently. On the tree above and across the surrounding landscape the sound of birds echoed out as if greeting Max to a new mystical place, an escape from reality and into a fantasy world of peace and tranquillity. Had this been different and without the grave and the place she was in, this would have been a perfect place for some family to come and have a picnic. _Happiness and calmness. Joy and pleasure._

Even though she had been sad moments ago, and still was, she had to admit being here did give her a soothing sense of serenity, composure, maybe even unexcitable (maybe this final adjective was a little much, but one understands the idea). She knelt down on one knee, resting a hand on the curved top of the rectangular headstone, its jet-black colour glimmering a little in the sunlight that was able to break through the leaves above.

"Hey, Kate," she said as if greeting said person at the start of a conversation. "I thought I'd come to see you, since I haven't done it lately."

Silence. She set the small batch of flowers on the ground in front of the headstone; daisies, dandelions and, her favourites, yellow tulips. Kate had told her about how they stood for something important; the value of friendship and emotional connection. For this, these are – _were_ her favourites, all or at least one of them having been in her room at some point before October last year when …

Max swallowed hard, looking down and taking a deep breath. One lone tear fell. _The first crack in her 'wall' of restraint._ No, she had to hold it together. Sitting here bawling her eyes out was not what Kate would have wanted at any time. Not here or at Blackwell or at home. Nowhere.

"Sorry," Max muttered, adjusting her position so she was now sitting on the ground, her legs crossed and arms on her knees at she stared at the headstone, in particular the writing that was placed across the front of it.

 _Kate Beverly Marsh_.

 _Born: September 12th, 1995_  
 _Passed on: October 8th, 2013_

 _A loving daughter and sister, now in the arms of the angel._

Below it was a small picture of a young woman with dirty blonde hair smiling at what was obviously the camera, Max recognising the picture coming from a photo of her family she had seen in her room. She noted the phrase 'passed on'. Kate's family was devoutly Christian, but she had not been the one to go around preaching and babbling as if her life depended on it. She mostly shared it when people wanted to hear it.

That was … well, when people actually _wanted_ to talk to her. Though Max never saw it happen much, Kate had been bullied a lot at Blackwell. A lot of people, namely Victoria and her cronies, often made fun of her and her beliefs, often calling her names and writing things like 'Bible bunny' and 'Kate loves his holiness inside her' and other stuff. Largely, she ignored it and just carried on with her life, looking after her bunny, Alice. Max had sometimes hung out with her, considering they were the 'weirdos' and 'outcasts' of the school.

However, it had all taken a turn for the worst when a viral video of Kate at a Vortex Club party kissing random people and acting drunk and crazy appeared on the Internet, spreading like plague around Blackwell. 'Plague' was the opportune word as it was sick and … terrible for someone to show a video of her doing that. Max had seen it and she had immediately felt bad. How could she add herself to the list of those who had seen this literal film of humiliation? It was always worse if your friends also saw it rather than just random people or your enemies.

From then on it just got worse for the poor girl: David Madsen, previously the known prick of a security officer around the campus, had taken pictures of her, stating that her behaviour was against Blackwell's policy. A few other students, including Nathan Prescott and Victoria, had made some snarky comments about her in the bathroom and in the corridors. Then, Mr Jefferson had …

Max winced at the thought of the name. That bastard! That son of a bitch! He was the one who had done all this! He had made Nathan drug Kate, made Rachael disappear and … and…

 _Get a grip! Don't let it crack open now!_ Part of her mind seemed to rage at her.

 _I can't, and it's not bad to do it._ Another part of her told herself.

She had to stop herself from getting worked up. She had to be happy that demon – Jefferson – was now behind bars, probably being the fuckboy for a bunch of other criminals. Some members from one of Kate's religious groups had said that they hoped he would rot in hell for what he did. Max, though not believing in any of that stuff herself, had to admit that if such a place did exist, then Jefferson deserved to go right to the very bottom of it.

She pushed these thoughts from her mind. _No, c'mon! Kate wouldn't want you to think that!_ She stared back at the grave, the hazel eyes of her friend staring back at her, the smile eternally locked onto her face as if saying: _It's alright, I'm at peace now. I'm not hurting anymore._

"Alice is doing pretty well, Kate." She said, trying to change the subject, make her mind drift from that day to something more positive. "She's getting big, and I think she might be ready to have some little ones running around soon." She tittered at that, then silence fell again as she stared back at the picture, wishing that it would laugh with her. Heck, if it could engage in conversation with her, Max would spend hours there.

 _After I wake up, or manage to come out of the mental asylum, that is._

Again, though, when she laid eyes on Kate's picture, she found herself thinking back to that day in October last year. Even though a full seven months had passed, it felt like only last night when it happened. When she and Kate …

As much as she tried to stop it, her mind began to go back to that day. October 8th, 2013.

* * *

 _"Kate, stop!"_

 _"Stay away, Max!"_

 _There, her friend stood on the ledge of the roof facing her. Rain fell as if emphasising the horrific scene. On the ground some fifty feet below, people cried out and looked up in horror, unable to believe that this one quiet girl, to some the victim of their antics, who had nothing interesting about her, was now about to throw herself off the roof of the girl's dorm._

 _Max, ignoring the blood that ran down her nose, the result of her overusing her power to stop and reverse time, stepped forward, her face pleading, begging, yet composed and strong as she tried to reach out to her friend. She tried to console her, to get her to come down, to reassure her that all would be alright. But Kate pushed her words aside, eyes puffy and red, tears, or possibly rain but it was hard to tell, running down her face as she cried down her words, saying that nothing could help her._

 _"My life is already over!"_

 _"Kate, your life is still yours. You don't have to end it this way."_

 _She said something in denial of my words to comfort her and took another step closer to the edge, a resounding cry echoing out from the crowd below as they thought she was going to step backwards off the roof. I begged her not to I pleaded with her to listen to me._

 _I tried to soothe her, using her favourite Biblical quote from Matthew:_ "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." _It didn't work. She blurted out again that no one needed her, no one cared, nothing could ease her pain._

 _"Kate!" Max cried. "Please!"_

 _"It doesn't matter anymore, Max."_

 _To Kate, nothing mattered anymore. This was the culmination of her suffering, the pinnacle of her depression. The very height of its pain and suffering. And there was only one outcome._

 _One way out._

 _"I'm done anyway!"_

 _Max took a step forward, reaching out to her:_ _Kate, please! Listen to me! Don't do it!_

 _She turned away and took the last step._

 _"NOOOOOOOOO-"_

* * *

She drifted out of the memory, tears staining her eyes, each one falling to the ground like raindrops. _Damnit!_ Her fortress, her strength had cracked and now it all flowed out like a burst dam. She tried! She really had! But Kate … Kate thought she was just too far gone.

Max sat up again taking a deep breath and wiping her eyes dry with the back of her hand, eyes falling on the headstone once again. As sad as she was, she did feel a sense of calm descend over her, a sort of serenity and security and comfort. It was as if her friend had seen her burst into tears and was now coming to comfort her, to reassure her that her pain was over and she was truly at peace.

 _ **Who cares if one more light goes out?**_

 _ **In a sky of a million stars**_

Kate was too modest to think of herself as such, yet Max and those who hung around with Kate really understood what she was like. Not only a gentle soul, but someone who looked on life with calm and hope, a bright light that would continue to shine even when things looked bleak.

That had been Kate Marsh.

 _ **Who cares when someone's time runs out?**_

 _ **If a moment is all we are**_

Max could reflect on Kate and how her death affected everyone around Blackwell. For days afterwards, memorials were held, tears were shed, and pain was felt. David Madsen was put under investigation after supposed rumours of him being involved in Kate's suicide had come to light, only for him to later be proven innocent. As for Nathan, who had had a dominant role in making Kate so depressed, he was later arrested when Max and Chloe Price, now her girlfriend, had managed to find him and Jefferson in cahoots with one another after connecting him to some 'Dark Room' where the police later found that he had taken Rachel Amber, a former friend of Chloe's before she disappeared, it being discovered that she had been murdered by Max's former photography teacher. It had been a tough few days, but they had found him out and gotten him. Now he was rotting away in prison, no doubt there for many years to come. Nathan would be in some psychiatric prison somewhere, at least that was where she hoped he was.

Max did feel a little glad at this, knowing they would not be hurting anyone anymore. But it has been too late for Kate. More tears threatened to fall as she stared back into the smiling, calm face of her friend: _I'm here, Max. Don't you cry now._

 _ **Who cares if one more light goes out?**_

 _ **Well I do**_

Again, her eyes failed to conceal the sadness and pain that lingered within her. Yet, she mentally told herself that Kate was no longer in pain. What was more, people had learned to move on. As horrible as it was with her family still saddened by the loss of their daughter, they too had had to admit that they would need to carry on. Even those at Blackwell, as devastated as they had been with one of their fellows passing away so suddenly, had gotten on with their lives, having to cope with the loss and not let it weigh them down.

 _That would have been for the best though_ Max thought to herself. _Kate wouldn't want us to be sat around moping and mourning forever._

And what was more, Max told herself that even if people had been such assholes to her, had bullied and belittled her, calling her names and other derogatory things to her face or behind her back, she knew that _everyone_ at Blackwell did miss her. Not only her, but Warren, Taylor, David, even Victoria had regretted it, making a tribute page on her Facebook the same evening. To be honest, Max had been amazed, rather guiltily that is, that Victoria would ever do something like that, but was pleased nonetheless. _Victoria was a bitch, but she wasn't heartless or evil. Just insecure._ And just like her, she had cared about Kate.

"We all did, Kate." She whispered to herself, her voice still pained, but had regained some of its normality, the comforting aura still surrounding her and washing away her sadness. "And still do. We all do."

No matter how hard it had been, and no matter how different she was, Kate was still loved by all. Max only wished to herself that she could have saved her friend. But she had to continue on. Kate would have wanted it to be that way. And she would have wanted Max to carry on being the one she was; living her dream and stopping what happened to her from happening to anyone else.

 _I'll do what I can, for you, Kate._

The moments trickled by, though they felt like hours before Max stood up, brushing the grass and dirt off her bottom and wiping tear marks from her face once again.

"Sorry I acted like this, Kate." She said, hoping her friend was listening. "I just miss you. We all do. But … you're at peace now. In your angel's arms. I know we'll see each other again soon."

Max was no believer, but for now she did wish that she would see her friend again when her time would come. But Kate would be with her, always.

Bending down, she planted a small kiss on the headstone and walked away, looking up at the sky once again, a small smile coming to her as if she were looking at her friend. If Kate was up there, she was watching over her.

 _You were my light, Kate. And you'll never go out._

As long as she lived, Max promised herself that would never happen.

* * *

 **Author's note: Hey, fellow FF readers and writers.**

 **I apologise if this FF was a little depressing, but I felt that I had to write this as a way of raising awareness and hope for those suffering with depression and anxiety. No matter where one's life ends or how deep their trauma and pain is, remember that there is always a light ready to bring you back. Someone will be there for you.**

 **Remember, lights don't go out when we are down; they go out when we choose for them to do so, when we really and genuinely give up, by suicide or not.**

 **Someone will always be there for you.**

 **Take care my fellow FF readers and writers. See you all soon.**


End file.
